24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Steam slowly wafting,
honey swirling through deep red brew,
while the scent of cinnamon and cloves lingers.
Chai, splash of milk, touch of sweeness
that warms the hands, such a bliss
to sit upon a cool porch step and watch the skies
slowly melt from indigo to soft starshine peach,
lavender, gold lingering into periwinkle,
a long slow morning wrapped up in silence
and a good brew.
In the fold
of summertime
leaves crimson and gold
fall from their prime.
Time moves fast
in the fold,
with ages past
and stories told.
Winter’s cold
finds warming grace
in the fold
of arms embrace.
Smell leaves burning
as we grow old,
twisting and turning
in the fold.
This is gobbledygook.
Gobsmackingly,
God awful.
This is a helter-skelter poppycock
with mumbo jumbo on top.
This is nothing but rigamarole,
drivel, prattle.
Really. Its gibberish.
This is foolish, rubbish, and hogwash.
It is nonsense, baloney,
balderdash.
It is downright absurd.
What do you think you’re doing here?
This is boring babble, tripped-out tripe.
Surely you know this right?
This is flapddoodle!
I swim.
At least thrice a week
sink myself into the pool
and forget why
I exist.
I swim
into and against
the flow. I dive so deep
your hand has to find mine
and pluck me out.
Each night
between dusk and sundown
I pause to water the garden.
There is nothing more important
in that moment.
I pay attention as I go.
With attention,
I notice and appreciate
the flow of water
growth and change
new buds,
full blossoms,
and scattered petals.
I know I am done
when I have attended to all the plants,
when the white moon rises against
a lavender sky,
and when the bat starts flitting
and dipping in its aerobatic flight.
There is nothing seen
that’s not controlled by unseen
Nothing. Everything
*Inspired by a combination of the text and image prompt
I am like this lemur
A red furred black faced beast
Who’s sensitive to issues
And prefers to feel peace
I hate to be a bother
I lurk with golden eyes
And if you try to trap me
I’m not an ideal prize
I belong in the wild
I need to be free
And I hold my body close
When I’m laying asleep.
Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day
A simple time, you eat what you want as you greet morning ray
A sandwich I crave, a sandwich I love
One that I eat almost every sun come above
Cheese and vegetables of my favorite kinds
Walnuts and hot sauce so hot, it makes my parents lose their minds
It’s questioned, a lot, why I eat this sandwich every morning
Just don’t ask again or someone will be in mourning
If I ever take the yee-
I mean leap
Then you won’t see it comin
I’ll turn my world around
I mean upside down
That is to say the ground
Will be on top of me
Instead of underneath my feet
But that’s only if I ever get
The strength to take the lea- yeet
I’m sorry in advance
For the shock that it’ll be
There’ll be no 9-1-1 call
No ambulance parked in the street
I’ll find the tallest bridge in Tennessee
Make sure I don’t survive
This will not be a cry for help
It’ll be so I can die
I can’t write you a letter
I’m sorry, I just can’t
Writing it would take a depth of
Courage I don’t have
And I should know, I’ve tried
At least a dozen times
“Hey bestie, please don’t hate me.
I couldn’t live this lie.”
Once I even got to almost 50 lines
The problem is, I’ve been Dear Jane-d
That is to say, I know the pain
Reading in a letter
That you won’t see them again
And at the time, I wished them dead
Ironic, now, I can’t deny
But I’d have thought much differently
If ever they had actually died
I can’t Dear Bestie one more time
You can’t learn in a letter
So I told you to your face
You said it wasn’t news to you
You’ve always known that was the case
And then you said it’d shatter you
Your heart hit with a bomb
And then you said I’d go to hell
Guess we believe in different gods
Eternity. The orchestra of an insidious being.
A manifestation born of an insipid creation.
Mortals desperate to match the melody of forever.
Unable to manifest the nature of seeing.
That they could ever grasp a predetermination.
The magnitude of the symphony’s endeavour.